Home
by myrhymesarepurer
Summary: FMAB, Pre-Liore / "You didn't tell me your father ever looked into human transmutation. Much less the philosopher's stone." "I was young" I'm coming with you" "What business do you have there, Colonel?" "You." / Edward and Alphonse discover Roy and Riza's past, their pain, and the Lieutenant's tattoo.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n** half of this took forever. half of this was speed written. so have fun with that. who knows if i got this timeline right. but i really do love this one. this idea. and chapter six, the most softly romantic royai scene i've ever written. so wait that out. **reviews and notes and love** is **what** i **live for. talk to me. let me know things.**

* * *

He could technically blame Hawkeye.

He was flustered. These papers were due at noon.  
It was 10:53 and he'd only gotten through half of them.  
Hawkeye had put her foot down asking for extensions.

And, yet she let the kid through the door.

As if Edward Elric was going to help with his concentration.  
He couldn't babysit _and_ complete the enormous load of paperwork  
the higher ups had dumped onto his desk as they prepared his rumored transfer to Central.

Or, rather, tested if he was worthy of an office in the capitol.  
It was all rather ambiguous. It kept him running in circles, chasing his tail,  
sacrificing his pride to gravel.

It was disgusting. And, far too stressful for him to handle.

Yet, she let him in. And, she stood at his left shoulder,  
watching him like the Hawk she was.

He sighed, and glanced at the _new_ stack on the corner of his desk.  
The kid even brought more paperwork. Paperwork that even burned a hole through his budget.  
The worst kind of paperwork. It was basically one large bill.

He only had to glance at the front page to meet his limit for the following conversation,  
and no one had even said a word yet.

Everyone was stalling.

Honestly, he'd rather go double time on his original stack  
if it meant Fullmetal would leave, lounging on his couch, feet kicked up  
and a customary angry grimace on his face.

The brat didn't want to be there either.  
He would make this harder than it had to be  
just because he felt like it. Roy didn't have time for this.

Yup, he'd rather do his paperwork.  
Oh my god. Hawkeye was a genius.

It was definitely her fault.

"You need to stop destroying Amestris, Fullmetal," the Colonel muttered impatiently,  
flipping through the packet chalk full of dollar signs and complaints.

"Technically I was following orders. I was protecting that town."  
Edward raised a finger, not bothering to lift his head as he reclined on the arm of the sofa.  
It wasn't very comfortable. He shifted then glared at his commanding officer.

He hated he had a commanding officer. But it was the game he had to play  
if he was ever going to get their bodies back.

"I was doing my civic duty. Don't you get off on that stuff?"

"Edward." Hawkeye said sternly.

Ed huffed. Al's amour creaked as he shifted on the opposite couch,  
hoping the two officers could see some sort of apology in his eyes without him  
having to say a word and risk detonating the ticking bomb that was the Flame and Fullmetal alchemist.

"Sorry, Lieutenant. But, I was doing what I was supposed to for once!"  
Edward honestly was astonished why he wasn't being applauded.  
They loved following orders. And, the one time he actually did it…

"It wasn't my fault the guy became hostile." Ed whined, though still substantially angry,  
"He was an alchemist too. Iron or something. He did his fair share of destruction. "

Roy rolled his eyes, flopped back against his chair and raked through his hair.  
He gave his own heavy huff. The morning sun was too hot behind him.  
There were still so many papers to go through and one hour left to do them.

He resigned, flipped to the back page of the form, and just signed the damn thing,  
daring to roll the dice with Hawkeye's impossibly high standards.  
Why did he always have to read the whole thing.  
He didn't want to read the whole thing.

"You would have leveled the town regardless." Roy grumbled.

Ed finally shot up, ready for a fight.  
"Would not, you bastard."

"Yes, you would."  
"Would not!"  
"Yes. You-"

Hawkeye intercepted, "You should be more careful, Edward."

"We're very sorry, Ms. Hawkeye." Al pleaded purely, "Truly, we are."

The Colonel didn't have much time to comment that  
he would bet the remainder of their whole budget that Alphonse  
barely left any trace at all in that town, or at least had the sense  
to reconstruct the property he damaged.

Probably what Ed destroyed as well.  
And the rogue alchemist for that matter.

There were so many of those lately. Roy groaned.  
That meant more bills, more rubble, more bullets  
to take for this kid while he destroyed half the country.

Edward was ready to move on in full, hoping to dodge some heat,  
"Shouldn't be much of a problem. There's not much of a town  
to level at our next stop. If our research is correct."

Mustang leaned forward, threw the bill aside and picked up his pen.  
58 minutes. There was no way. Hawkeye was going to kill him.

"Already somewhere new, huh? How much is this going to cost me?"  
The Colonel asked bitterly.

"Don't worry about it."

The Colonel grunted in exhaustion,

"Don't worry ab-"

Hawkeye tapped on the stack of remaining papers on his desk.  
Keep signing, is what she was saying.  
Don't fight with the fifteen-year-old, she was saying.  
You're twice his age, she was saying.

" _Don't worry about it,"_ Roy scoffed under his breath.

Fifty minutes until noon. He picked up a form, didn't read it, signed it.  
Another and another. He was distracted. He was angry.

He really could blame Hawkeye.

"I do have one question."

"I don't have time for this, Fullmetal"

Ed ignored Mustang and turned to his adjutant.

"Does the name Berthold Hawkeye ring a bell?"

"Yes, that was my alchemy teacher," Roy said mindlessly.  
He kept signing. Forty-nine minutes. But, the silence that followed was strange.

Too strange, he thought. Then his own words suddenly reached his own ears.

"I was actually asking the Lieutenant…"

Roy's dropped his pen with a clank.  
His head snapped up. His eyes were wide.

He'd screwed up. Most uncharacteristically.

Just like that. One of their most important covers blown.  
He looked to her. Hawkeye's eyes mirrored his own, wide and stunned.

It had been a long time since they had heard that name.

And, never before had they let this one slip. Never.

Ed and Al looked from one superior to another,  
not even knowing what to do except repeat their original question.

"Ms. Hawkeye. Any relation?" Al asked.

It was a silly question. They knew that answer. If Mustang was trained by a Hawkeye,  
it wasn't a coincidence he was attached at the hip to one too.

Hawkeye looked away from Roy and to the boys.

Her face was stone once more. She gave a confident nod.

They couldn't dodge it now. They had tripped over their feet,  
and the cat was out of the bag. So quickly. So foolishly.

He could blame Hawkeye.  
With the paperwork and the kid and the bill  
and the deadline and the lack of coffee. He really could blame her.

But, he thought better of it  
when he heard her choke on her words.

"Yes, he was my father."

"Your _father_?" Ed and Al cried at the same time.

It was a funny thought really. Ed couldn't imagine the two much younger.  
He wouldn't be surprised if they were born at the age they were now.

But, he could at least kinda see Mustang training with the Lieutenant's father,  
maybe using his "charm" to swindle a young Hawkeye into a lifetime of service

Like so she would bring him tea or iron his clothes  
or something his lazy ass wouldn't do himself.  
Then it escalated to pretty much indentured servitude.

Maybe hypnosis, he thought, hypnosis that started early.  
If he said a magic word, "foliage" or "nutmeg",  
would she wake up and start screaming?

"You two suddenly make sense." Edward started to snicker  
before he was met with Mustang's sharp response,  
"What business do you have with Berthold Hawkeye?"

Edward sensed the change in the air, grew grumpy he was deprived of a good laugh,  
and crossed his arms, resuming his base state of irritation.

"Before we hit the road, we asked around about the stone.  
There were alchemists there. There's never usually actual alchemists in the East.  
There's us, and you, I guess. But, that's it. We thought."

Roy had forgotten his paperwork.  
Or just figured he could use this as an excuse.  
A bit of a sick and unwelcome blessing in disguise. "Okay, so..."

"One old man told us about an alchemist, still out in the east but further north,  
who looked into using a stone over two decades ago.  
He said he was trying to bring his wife back."

Al sighed heavily at the futile task,  
"He said his name was Berthold Hawkeye."

"Does that sound right?"  
Ed asked the Lieutenant.

Both officers responded immediately,  
and with completely opposing answers.

"No, he never-" Mustang started.  
"Yes, that's right." Hawkeye confirmed.

Mustang nearly yelped, " _What_?"  
he cried, "What are you talking about?"

Hawkeye didn't flinch, didn't look at him.

Edward faltered, "Human Transmutation is not what we're after. Obviously.  
But, he might have insight on the stone we haven't heard yet.  
No one we've met has connected those dots before."

Hawkeye nodded. She understood.  
This could be the next step. She owed them this information,  
this information she had never even told her closest confidant.

"I was young." She forced herself to speak, "But, that's all true."  
Mustang grew silent. He stared at his forms.

Ed felt the room grow fragile, breakable.  
His voice was soft when he asked:

"Do you think he still has any of his research?"

"Fullmetal," Mustang grumbled, "The Lieutenant's father  
has been dead for quite some-"

Hawkeye once more interrupted,  
"I believe I do know where his notes are on that particular subject, yes."

Riza didn't dare look anywhere else but the two hopeful boys  
who would giver her reason to offer the following,  
the following she couldn't believe she was offering.

"If it will help you on your journey, we could take a day trip to my home,"  
She swallowed, "and I could retrieve them for you."

"Yeah," Ed smiled, "That would be great."  
"Thank you, Lieutenant Hawkeye," Al gushed.

Riza cleared her throat and picked up the unfinished papers  
off the Colonel's desk, taking them to her own.

She'd have to forge his signature if they were going to get this done,  
if she was going to keep her mind off the fact that she'd be home soon.

 _Home._ Indeed.  
For the first time in ten years.

She had to do it, she thought.  
For them, she had to do it.

But, she would certainly have to do it quick.

"Very well," she said, "We'll leave tomorrow morning."


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n** smol but cute. talk to me. let me know. im lonnneeely. review, follow, do it allll.

* * *

He didn't speak to her for the rest of the day.  
Not a peep, not an order, not a 'Lieutenant,'  
not even a groan when she piled more stacks on his desk.  
Even the extensive packets, jam-packed with legalese.

He didn't speak to her until she forced him to.  
He did his work.  
He read the pages.  
He signed his forms.

He didn't procrastinate,  
spin in his chair,  
count the cracks in the ceiling.  
Or flat out sleep.

She thought, for a brief moment, maybe she should reveal  
most unpleasant secrets she had kept from him on a daily basis.  
Unfortunately, this one was truly the only secret she had in her arsenal.

So no luck.

She forced him out of his childish, though most honestly reasonable rage,  
if she could admit to that, and laid the last form of the day on his desk.

On top of his work, in front of his nose.  
Impossible for even his world-class,  
juvenile silent treatment to ignore.

"My request for leave, Sir."

He crumpled the paper and tossed it into the trash  
without even looking up at her.

"Sir." She gritted her teeth.

The men were gone.  
It was far past five.

She shouldn't have waited. She needed witnesses  
for her very certain burn at the stake,  
or at least a simple disappearance.

And, unfortunately, he didn't waste any time cutting to the quick.  
He made clear exactly what he was getting at.  
Finally, he was direct.

She should have addressed him earlier.

When there were witnesses.  
She needed witnesses.

But, he felt betrayed, being left in the dark like that.  
He knew everything about her. Even the little things he had no business knowing.

This wasn't a little thing, though.  
This was important. This was crucial information.  
Her father must have turned sour much earlier than he thought.  
He could have helped her. He didn't know how.

She would have denied it from dusk till dawn.  
But, he would have found a way.

Yet, she kept it from him.  
This most sensitive detail.

Roy couldn't avoid the fact that it hurt.

"You didn't tell me he _ever_ looked into human transmutation.  
Much less the philosopher's stone." He finally cut a whisper to her.

"I was young," she countered, unwavering.

"How young exactly?"

"Before you arrived," is all he needed to know.  
He couldn't have helped is what she was saying.

He didn't accept that as an answer.

He shook his head.  
And his voice shook just so.

"You should have told me."

"It wasn't something I wanted to bring up, Sir."

He clenched his jaw and slammed down his pen.  
His lowered voice was venom.

"Riza."

"Colonel."

She defied his attempt to make this totally and completely personal,  
though she wasn't sure how long she could hold down that fort.  
Because that's all it was. Personal.

He still stared at his desk.

"Are you sure you want to go?"

"I'd like to help Edward and Alphonse."

"You're looking out for them." He said, running his hand through his hair,  
nearly pulling it all out in one snatch "But, I need to look out for _you_ as your superior."

"Edward is your subordinate as well," but it was as if Riza hadn't even spoken.  
He said without pause, "Now, are you completely cerain-"

"Yes - Sir, please. The more I think about it, the more I'll hesitate.  
I don't want to hesitate," She stiffened. So did he.

They looked each other straight in the eye for the first time since this morning.  
That was quite the record for them.

He was very rarely this angry with her.  
She had a reason.

And, he needed to understand.  
She couldn't do this without his approval, unfortunately.  
Even though she would continue without it anyway.

For her well being, though,  
they had to reach an understanding.

"They need this," she said sternly, "They need what I have."

It felt like a very long while, so silent and still as the sun set  
through the wide windows behind him, before Roy finally voiced  
what he decided the moment Riza offered to take them: "I'm coming with you."

She wanted to bite back an _absolutely not_ and instead countered a caustic,  
"What business do you have there, Colonel?"

"You," he stood up, leaned on his desk and confronted her head on.

No one would have seen her flinch in that moment.  
But, Roy could read her, see her. He knew her.

"You can not be alone there."

"I spent plenty of time alone there."  
She said coldly.

It was almost too cold, she knew.  
Already the sting was sinking in. That place was poison.  
He left her alone there once. He wouldn't do it again.

"Lieutenant. This is an order from a superior."  
"Sir, my personal affairs don't fall under you jurisdi-"

"Hawkeye."

She didn't answer. She didn't budge.

He switched his tactic. Sometimes the stoic Riza Hawkeye  
needed soft. Honest, soft, sincere. A detail no one else knew.

"Don't tell the pipsqueak this," he sighed, "But, he and I are not that different.  
You leave me alone, I will destroy East City. One way or another."

He attempted to give even the weakest laugh.  
His smirk was just as weak.

Her face didn't even twitch.  
Riza just turned to the door and stopped briefly under the frame.

She truly did need him there. Riza couldn't pretend otherwise.  
Her old home was too riddled with wretched memories.  
He was always ever the only saving grace about that place.

Her old friend.  
Her best friend.

Returning without him would most likely be too much  
even if she couldn't admit it aloud.

"For the sake of the town," Riza was fragile when she said,  
"You may accompany us."

He smiled softly at her when she looked over her shoulder.  
"I probably would have shown up regardless."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded and walked away.

She said with a tinge of bitterness,  
yet a tinge of relief. He could sense both.

"Do the paperwork, Colonel. We leave bright and early."


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n** oh boy. for some reason, i love torturing riza. im so sorry riza. im so sorry all of you.

* * *

Hawkeye's hometown was quite small. Like Resembool.  
It was honestly quite the match, Ed and Al thought.

It was a little father north, but still out East.  
They even passed Resembool on their way in.  
Maybe they could say hello to Winry on their way back.

"This shouldn't take long," the Lieutenant had said,  
handing Ed and Roy a piece of fruit to eat on the way.

She didn't want this to take long.

The Colonel slept on the train, head thrown back,  
legs hoisted up, arms crossed, mouth hanging open.

If you looked closely, Roy held onto the fabric at Hawkeye's elbow  
between his second and third finger to stay steady while the train bumped and jostled.

Maybe just to hold onto her.

Ed was nearly in an identical state, except snoring. Quite loudly.  
Leaving Riza and Alphonse wide awake to listen.

Al watched her stare out the window.

"Lieutenant?"

Riza looked to him.  
Her eyes looked pink, puffy maybe.  
He supposed she was tired. It was quite early, after all.

But, her eyes glistened in the rising sun.  
He couldn't ever imagine her crying.  
So, that couldn't be it.

"Are you alright?

She smiled subtly, "Of course, Alphonse."

Riza sighed and watched the hills roll by,  
the cows and the crops and the East.

Yes, much like Resembool. Al was quite surprised at the similarities  
they had discovered between he, his brother and Lieutenant Hawkeye.

He never would've guessed.

"We'll be there soon," she said to the window.

True to her word, the train did stop soon.  
Ed and Roy yawned far too loudly.  
Yet, Riza had to be prompted to move.

She just kept staring out the window.

The Colonel said sleepily, "Lieutenant."  
"Oh, yes" she jumped, "I'm sorry, Sir."

They stepped off the train,  
grabbed their bags and got a car.

"You're Berthold's girl." The man behind the desk said.

Though Roy nearly thought Riza purposefully tried to change her voice just a tad.  
She averted her eyes often to the counter or anything behind her shoulder.  
She let down her hair even.

She still looked like her mother, Roy thought,  
or what he saw in the pictures she still had left.

She still couldn't hide from this place.

"He wouldn't like that uniform." The man muttered.

Riza couldn't remember who the man was. She didn't go out much as a girl, of course.  
Only ever to go to the convenience store or to see Roy off to his departing trains.

But, it was a widely known fact that Berthold hated the military.  
"No one in that town will ever truly be fond of us," Ed remembered her saying  
when Roy made a comment on the train, "Do you think they'll like our outfits?"

Even so, as much as Ed really didn't prefer the navy uniform stashed in an old box  
in the back of his closet he couldn't help but mutter, _"have some damn respect, asshole."_

"My father is gone." Hawkeye responded, unphased.  
The old man gave a _'humph'_ and took her coins. "What brings you back?"

The man eyed the Colonel, almost remembering a boy who looked similar long ago,  
with that messy mop of black hair and an exuding, commanding confidence.  
Though, he couldn't quite believe the man before him  
and the boy from his memory were one in the same.

For the Colonel didn't look confident at all in that moment.  
He kept staring at Hawkeye. He kept resisting to rub the back of his neck  
He kept feigning composure. But, even that old man could see right though him.

He must have been someone new.

"And with visitors," the man added.  
"Nostalgia." Riza said. It was cold and harsh and a flat out lie.

The old man looked a bit skeptical, a bit judgmental, altogether unfriendly,  
when he handed them the keys to an old car out back,  
one that was to take them all the way to the Hawkeye Estate.

Riza sighed heavily and took them. Roy drove.  
Ed and Al started to wonder if this was such a good idea.

Something was strange.  
No one mentioned it.

Until they reached dead terrain,  
brown grass and worn down hills.

That's when the little town began to look less  
and less like the place the Elric's called home.

The whole landscape appeared to crumble, too dry, too brown, too dead.  
The hills and the fields went on for awhile before they finally stopped in front of a vast estate  
with a small house smack dab in the middle. A house that matched the petrified landscape perfectly.

Sick weeds took over the fields and the steps and the posts.  
Windows were shattered, the paint was chipping.

It looked as if it would cave in, give out under the weight of its age,  
and the burden of the dying land surrounding it, suffocating it.

"Are you sure this place is…" Ed started."Safe?" Al finished.  
The Colonel gave a snort, "No. Not at all."

"I hid the notes somewhere in the house," she said,  
once again staring out the window. She sat still a moment.

They waited for her word.

"You three stay here. I'll find where-"  
"No." The Colonel cut her off.

"It wasn't a-" Hawkeye bit through her teeth,  
but he was already out the door, "Fine."

Ed and Al watched Riza fling her door open,  
and slam it closed, quite a bit more insubordinate than usual.

But, the two officers still kept their composure as they marched toward their past  
as if they were going into battle. Except Hawkeye demanded to be in front.  
She struggled to be in the front.

She wanted to do this alone.  
Get in and get out. Then disappear.  
Riza only slowed down at the doorknob.  
She hesitated, as if it was hot, as if it could burn.

Riza could feel Roy watching her. She braced herself,  
grabbed the door, and opened it. She breathed in,  
her stomach sank. She lifted her chin and walked in.

She could do this.  
It was just a house.

The air was stale. The floors creaked under their feet and the Elrics cringed.  
Sure, it was just a house. But, there was something there they felt they shouldn't disturb.

Still, they followed her diligently. She stayed close to the wall.  
Her fingers stuck out just so, grazing and tracing the wood beside her.  
The silence was suffocating, scary even. Ed hoped hearing himself talk would solve the issue.

"Did you live here, Mustang?"

"Yes," he said, then knocked on a door to their right  
with the top of his knuckle, "This room was mine."

Hawkeye had stopped at a doorpost on the other side of the hall,  
running her hands along the grain,  
remembering.

She was surprised,  
more so outraged  
she couldn't quite remember on command.  
She blocked it all out, maybe. A safety measure.

"Perhaps in my room." She muttered to herself,  
opening her own door, stepping inside.

Ed studied Mustang's door. It looked black, charred even.  
He twisted the knob to reveal a room that looked just the same.  
The bed toppled over, the walls burned thin. He could almost smell smoke.

"What happened?"

Mustang turned his gaze away from Riza, wandering around the bare room of her young years,  
and to the boys. He peeked inside his door, and gave a solemn reply,  
"He burned it when I left," he said, "He wasn't happy when I left."

He didn't want to remember seeing that aftermath when he returned from the academy.  
He had thought he'd seen the worst when he opened that door.

Riza had recounted her father's frenzy to him.  
Roy was exiled from the house, her father screaming.  
Roy disappeared in a cab. He knew that, he lived that.

But, afterwards.

Berthold lit the room ablaze, then he stood like stone in the doorway,  
watching it burn. The house filled with smoke, Riza laid low on the floor to breathe,  
bracing her door, hoping he wouldn't burn the whole house down.

Hoping,  
praying.

When he moved to his study, leaving the flames behind,  
Riza went to work. She worked all night to put it out,  
to save whatever skeleton memory she had of her friend.

 _I left her with him_.

He thought he hated himself for it then, more than he ever could.  
Then he saw the tattoo, and the universe proved him wrong.

He could always hate himself more  
especially when it came to her.

Riza Hawkeye could take care of herself. But her father was an unmatchable force.  
She had always worked for his affection. Consciously or no.

She never had a chance.  
Not when he left.

He burned. He raged.  
He screamed. He maimed her.  
And, Roy wasn't there to stop it.

"Maybe his..." Riza emerged from her room,  
whispering to herself, "Maybe his study."  
 _  
_Roy's eyes shot open, "Lieutenant, wait."  
She didn't. She didn't seem to hear.

She followed the wall down the corridor,  
and the Colonel followed after her.

Edward and Al peered inside the room  
Hawkeye had called her own.

It was bare. Undecorated. Uncomfortable.  
But, of the basic features it did have:  
a bed, a dresser, a mirror,

Nothing seemed as it had been touched.

"It looks like she just up and left," Al said,  
while his brother scanned the floor, his eyes drawn  
to the molding where the wood met the wall.

Scratches. Near the nightstand.  
For some reason he found himself kneeling down to them,  
he traced his fingers over the letters, wiping the dust away.

" _Riza_ ," he read, "The Lieutenant's name."  
Al pointed to the extra scratches below,  
Ed wiped away the age.

" _Roy_ ," Al read, "The Colonel."

"How long do you think they've known each other?"  
Ed wondered aloud, marveling a bit at the mystery that  
was his superior officers.

"I imagine for-

Then there was screaming, broken by harsh breaths, sobbing,  
gasping echoing through the empty house.

Ed and Al jumped to their feet and sprinted down the hall.

"Lieutenant!" Mustang yelled desperately  
watching her fall to the ground, clawing at her clothes.

It itched. It burned. The moment she stepped into the room.  
She focused on the shelves, the books. Any possible hiding place  
for the notes she stowed away. They could be anywhere.

They could be anywhere.

But, then the itch grew fierce, the burn flared on her back,  
tracing the markings in full force.

Her scars cracked and blistered.  
She could feel the needle.  
She could feel the ink.

She could feel the fire.

Riza had to pull of her jacket, her sweater. Anything separating herself from her skin.  
She scratched and scraped and raked into her back, "Get it off. Get it off. Get it off."  
Riza whispered, she muttered, she screamed, she sobbed.

"Lieutenant!" Roy fell to his knees in front of her, begging.  
"Hawkeye, answer me."

That's when Edward and Alphonse froze in the doorway.  
That's when they saw it.

Her back toward them, she sat crumbled on the ground.  
She stretched her arms every which way across her bare back. As far as they would go.  
She dug in deep. She drew blood. She screamed and pleaded and sobbed.

It was surreal, unbelievable. Edward thought he might be dreaming,  
hallucinating. Maybe the stale air or the dead land were toxic.

Maybe the house itself.

"What's-" He started.  
"Ms. Hawkeye!" Al cried.

Edward shook his head, got rid of the fog, the thick air of terror,  
and gathered his thoughts in time enough to register the marks,  
the code, the salamander, before Roy could toss his black coat around her.

"That's your circle-" Edward snapped to Mustang, disbelief, fury,  
hatred as he connected the dots, he could almost see the sigil  
bright on the Colonel's hands, though he didn't wear his gloves.

"What's the hell is going on?"

Edward lunged through the door.  
Hawkeye sobbed, and choked, and shook.  
Roy was quick, though in panic, in terror.

He shoved Edward, throwing him out of the room with tremendous force.  
Edward stumbled through the door frame, collided into the wall. The whole house shook.

"Leave, Elric!"

He slammed the door in their faces.  
Al held Ed back. Ed was ready to break down the door.

But, Ed listened to his brother.  
Maybe it was the shock.

The wood barely muffled the Lieutenant's sobs,  
her muttering, her whispering. Maybe it was the noise.

"Get it off. Get it off.  
Burn it. Burn it.  
 _Burn it_."

Roy attempted to quiet her. He braced her,  
though she fought. She broke away, she pushed away.  
He locked her down, muttering her name, begging her for a response.

Quickly all fell quiet.

Edward lingered before Al convinced him to leave, to wait outside.  
They were gone before they could hear Riza say into Roy's shoulder,

"You were gone. You left."

"I'm so sorry," he choked, rocking her, "I'm so sorry."

"You were gone," she trembled.  
So foolish, she thought.  
So weak, she thought.

But, Riza couldn't stop her words.

"You left."

* * *

im so sorry. review, follow, pamper me.


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n** not sure if its just bc i stayed up so late with ting-a-ling, but this was a doozy touching up.  
i decided to let it go. may release chapter five also today if i'm not dead in the end. im so sorry.

* * *

The front door slammed.  
That was an understatement.

The whole house rumbled  
as if it would fall apart

It probably could.

The brute force that was Colonel Mustang barging through the door  
could probably level the whole town. He stopped on the steps only  
when he was hit with the cool air of an approaching storm,  
the sickening scent of the dying land,

and he remembered everything that wasn't Hawkeye,  
namely, the two boys that shot to their feet,  
the two boys who saw everything.

The secret was out.

It was a hot second battle for who could speak first,  
Edward or his commander.

Mustang won the battle.  
But, the war was nowhere near over.

"You will not ever speak about what happened here,"  
he spoke sharply over his shoulder, "Whatever you saw,  
whatever you heard. None of it. That's an order."

Just as quick. "What did you do to her, Mustang?"

"That's an order, Elric." He barked.  
Ed didn't back down, couldn't back down.

"I couldn't care less about your orders, you bastard.  
 _What the hell did you do_? "

Mustang just turned and walked away.  
Not even sure where he was going.

He couldn't go to the car. He couldn't drive off like he wanted.  
He couldn't leave her alone again.

She was inside. She was held captive inside those walls. She refused to move.  
He was useless. He just made it worst.

They were stranded. They couldn't leave.  
Roy and Riza would never be able to leave that place,  
not truly.

"Hey! I'm talking to you, Mustang,"  
Ed yelled from the porch

Al would have joined,  
anger stirred inside of him just as fiercely.

But, to be honest, he was scared.  
This place was no good.  
This was not the right moment.

Something was happening to the Colonel and his Lieutenant.  
Something wrong. Something unnerving.

Rocking the boat at just this moment seemed like a death wish.  
But, Ed was so good at doing just that. So he ran from stem to stern,  
riding the waves, toppling the whole ship upside down and into the water.

Al, as always, still begged him to wait.  
"Brother, maybe you shouldn't-"

"No." Ed shot, committed in full to ripping his 'commanding officer' apart.  
He could beat him. He could do it. He could squash him like a bug.  
He knew just where to strike.

"You know, I never understood why Havoc,  
Breda, any of them followed you.  
But, she.  
She was dedicated."

Mustang froze mid-field in front of the estate.  
Ed had set the trap, now it was time to close it.  
Break his neck. Punish him for what he'd done.

"I don't get it. You're a selfish, arrogant, condescending son of a bitch "  
He shot, Al's constant pleas lost in the wind, "But, that tattoo. NOW, I get it.  
You branded her. Like cattle.  
She can't leave. You made her your _possession_."

Mustang whirled on him and in one motion grabbed  
Ed's collar and lifted him up on the ground. Ed had to stifle a cough,  
the collar almost tight enough around his neck to choke him.

"Brother!"

The Colonel's words would have echoed through the deadbeat town  
if his teeth weren't clenched. Instead, it was a harsh, low growl,  
shaking the boy, tightening his grip with each word, each syllable.

"You are a state alchemist, _my_ subordinate.  
You will follow my orders or be court marshaled and, if I have my way, locked up  
in prison for your _capital offense_ of human transmutation rendering your search  
to reverse your crime terminated indefinitely. "  
He titled his head spitefully,

"Or have you forgotten how much kindness I've shown you."

Ed could barely breathe. But, his bite didn't suffer.  
Through clenched teeth, he seethed.

"Kindness? You aren't capable of kindness. She can't escape you.  
She has no choice. She's never had a choice. You made her into your goddamn notebook.  
What's your _problem_? Couldn't find a damn piece of paper? Instead you-"

Roy let out a cry, more like a fierce, echoing roar,  
and threw Edward to the ground.

Alphonse rushed to defend his brother.  
But, Roy had his glove on faster than Al could take even a simple step.

Then he snapped.

Flames roared forming a wall in front of Alphonse.  
Al jumped back and tumbled into the porch.

"AL!" Ed screamed and stumbling to his feet,  
bolting toward him, or failing to.

Another echoing snap,

a circle of fire shot from the ground to the sky,  
surrounding Ed.

While he inched toward Edward,  
Mustang's face was shaded in rage.  
Vengeance. Hatred. For his past. His present. Himself.

In only a blink, though, the darkness began to fade.  
Reason reappearing. This was foolish,  
reckless.

But, he wasn't above letting the flames remain,  
making the pipsqueak sweat a little.

Ed still screamed bloody murder, "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

Mustang pulled the glove off his left hand  
and went for the other, all the while the flames still raged.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, INCINERATE US?  
IS THAT WHAT YOU DID IN THAT WAR?"

The Colonel froze. But not for the mention of the monster he once was.  
He froze for a still small voice coming from the front steps of the Hawkeye estate.

No one heard the door open.  
No one saw the figure numbly step forward  
and observe the flames without fear.

No one even heard her voice.  
Except for the Colonel.  
Who could hear and somehow feel  
every time that voice said his name.

"Roy."

His eyes widened,  
his chest tightened,  
and he looked up to lock eyes with Riza.

In a moment, Roy clenched his gloved hand.  
The flames disappeared with the oxygen it fed on,  
fizzling to the ground.

Ed didn't have much time to marvel at the fact that  
he'd never seen the Flame Alchemist reverse his work, the control he really had.  
He gasped for the air flooding back into the circle around him, restoring the oxygen level.

Roy wanted to say her name. He wanted to touch her face.  
But, he'd gone too far. So, instead, he choked out a feeble, "Lieutenant."

The space was quiet as the three stared dumbfounded  
at the once invincible woman, transformed into a  
weak and hollow  
puppet.

"Edward, Alphonse."  
She said, looking to the two.

Edward cut her off. "Lieutenant, why do you follow this bastard?  
Why did you let him do that to you?"

"He is your commanding officer.  
You will not speak about him that way."

Riza said sternly,  
though her strength was small.

"Commanding officer, my ass. He's—"  
"The Colonel saved me, Edward."

Roy's face collapsed.  
Ed scoffed in disbelief.

"How exactly? Tell me how exactly he-" Ed screamed, shouted.  
He felt his voice nearly giving out.

In a direct contrast,  
hers was nearly inaudible."By destroying it."

"What-

"Surely you saw the burns too," she said,

Edward remembered.

 _"Burn it",_  
she had sobbed,  
she had gasped,  
she had prayed.  
 _"Get it off. Burn it.  
Burn it.  
_  
 _Burn it."  
_  
Edward hadn't known right away,  
that he was staring at another story altogether.  
But, he could see them now, on her bare back,  
as she was crumpled over on the floor of the study.

Ed struggled to respond. For once he didn't know what to say.  
Those burns. How on earth could a couple burns take care of it,  
a burden far too heavy for one person to carry?

"You must trust me, Edward. You have now become wise to a secret  
that only three people have ever known. Now that this has happened,  
it would be pointless for me to lie to you," she said.

"The Colonel has not hurt me."

Mustang struggled to counter,  
desperate to correct her.  
"Lieutenant, that's – "

"Please do not dwell on it." She said, to every one of them.  
Though she couldn't even look them in the eye.  
How weak, she thought.  
How pathetic was she.

She couldn't even survive one inconsequential room.  
How foolish. Those memories. She let them destroy her.

Seemed this place stripped her of her thick skin.  
She was a child again. Helpless. Hopeless. Silly. Shameful  
Biting her nails, staring out the window.

Waiting for a soldier to return, to save her maybe.  
Roy Mustang, a soldier. _the_ soldier.  
How.  
Foolish.

He had a right to leave.  
Honestly, he was banished.

It was more of a sentence than a choice.  
A sentence for joining the military,  
for wanting to help people.

She had never mentioned how it stung,  
the day he was thrown through the door,  
the day he gave in, disappeared,  
left.

She had never before guilted him for it.

Foolish. Silly. Selfish.  
She was too old for that,  
even then. Sixteen.

She stared at the rotten wooden steps beneath her.  
She wasn't like that anymore.  
She would do her job,  
protect the Colonel.

Their dream.  
The future.

She would press on.  
No, she wouldn't waste their time any longer.  
She wouldn't burden them any longer.

With one blink, Riza had raised her chin and swallowed  
any emotion, any pain. Every swell, every tear, every flush, every crease.  
Somehow evaporating into thin air.

It was quite the amazing, skillful sight to see  
if it wasn't so heartbreaking.

She smiled softly.  
Roy's face fell,  
further than it had already fallen.

She decided resolutely,  
She would press on,  
deal with this,  
alone.

"Now, if you all would give me a brief moment before we leave."

* * *

im so sorry. talk to me anyway?


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n** the big reveal. this one is calmer.  
but, it's...well. hang with me. it'll be okay.

* * *

"Now, if you all would give me a brief moment before we leave,"  
she said so so softly.

It wasn't a brief moment.

The sun set slowly, and clouds filled the dark sky.  
And, still Lieutenant Hawkeye stood. Staring her past right in the face.  
Being held captive and frozen stiff by its chipping roof and neglected yard,  
the caving walls and busted windows.

"I ruined her." He said.

Almost to himself.  
Almost as an explanation  
to the young boys beside him.

It was the only words he could say to completely sum up  
what had happened to them.  
What had happened to her.

What had happened inside that house that day.  
The memories, the weight on her shoulders,  
she had crumbled quite literally.

It took a lot to make Riza Hawkeye crumble.  
Edward raised an eyebrow and glanced at him from the side of his eye.

Mustang stared at the Lieutenant, standing stone  
still in front of the house. Alone.

Roy's arms were crossed. Ed expected his eyebrows to be furrowed  
in the angry kind of overthinking they normally were.

Instead, his face was pale and flimsy.  
Edward chewed on his cheek.

"She said you didn't hurt her," he said,  
stating the only reason he hadn't killed him yet.  
He assumed she meant the tattoo.  
He hoped she meant the tattoo.

So, he decided to be easy of his commanding officer.  
Even if he almost burnt them to a crisp.

Yeah. Wait.  
Maybe he didn't deserve easy,

"I don't believe her. Her dedication to you is unhealthy  
and I wouldn't be surprised if it blinded her to the truth."

"Riza-" Mustang started. He swallowed and tried again,  
"The Lieutenant did not lie to you. But, truly, I've nothing but hurt her."

Ed and Al were silent. They waited patiently for the Colonel to finally unravel the  
mysterious cloud of a history that constantly hovered over he and the Lieutenant.  
Wondering if he was truly about to give those secrets up.

But, they had come all this way.  
And, they'd already been exposed  
to nearly the worst of it all.

Her tattoo.

There was no going back.  
Roy told what he could muster.

"Her father was my alchemy teacher. He invented flame alchemy. I studied here."  
"Yeah, I caught that," Ed fought off the tinge of bitterness.

"Then I left." He said, then paused.

The Colonel weak enough for Ed to read him like a book,  
he spoke against it.

"I'm sure the Lieutenant could survive on her own. I'm sure your absence didn't do her in,"  
Ed said. Was he comforting him or was he insulting him? Both probably.

Mustang didn't notice either way.

"Her father refused to teach me any longer.  
I would leave without flame alchemy.  
And, there was a war," Roy couldn't breath.

"I left her behind with him.  
And, then he did it."

Al realized before his brother, "So her _father_ tattooed her."  
Ed steeled and snapped to Mustang for confirmation.

He didn't nod. He just stared at her,  
still standing. Still stone.

"But why?" Al pleaded.  
"I suppose it's a clever hiding place,"  
Roy said, numb.

"That's sick," Ed said.

Mustang didn't hear him.  
He watched her.

He had left her alone.  
With him.  
That's why.

"I came back. He died the day of. She showed me that tattoo."  
He said, then nearly snorted at the thought, "She said it was voluntary."

"Yeah, right," Edward grumbled.

"Afterward, she enrolled in the Academy."

Then Ed caught on.  
Then Ed understood.

"Then Ishval." Ed muttered.

Roy swallowed, "After everything that happened there…"

 _Everything I did_ , he meant.  
Everything he had never told Edward.  
And refused to tell him even now.

She trusted him. He became a killer.  
She followed him. _She_ became a killer.

He stopped before the remaining gruesome details hit the air.

"She asked me to burn it. No more Flame Alchemists,"  
he murmured, "No more human weapons."

 _Human weapons,_ Edward thought. He wondered if he would ever fall into the same fate.  
If he would ever ruin Winry and Al even more than he already had.  
The same way Mustang said he ruined Hawkeye.  
He supposed he couldn't avoid becoming like the bastard.  
Even if he tried.

What a terrible fate.

He honestly couldn't understand how the two still stood next to each other, so broken,  
their shattered pieces so mixed. But, he supposed they were so deeply intertwined  
that they weren't meant to separate in the first place.

They would always have each other.  
They would always have the same gruesome open wounds.

It was a comforting concept  
that doubled as sick and unfair.

"We should not have come here," Roy finally said.

It was the saddest and weakest Edward had ever seen his superior.  
It was so unnatural, so unbalanced, so disquieting  
to see the only two people he ever saw as invincible be defeated by a stupid house.

He never realized he thought them invincible.

He never realized how much he relied on that thought.  
Ed shivered, and not at all because of the incoming storm.

Mustang reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of loose-leaf papers,  
ripped and torn and crumpled and scattered. He handed the stack to Ed and his brother  
without even turning to confront the fact that the notes even existed in the first place.

He didn't want to know what they said. He had wished she had told him.  
But, he didn't wish to know the details, what he maybe could have fixed.

Not now. He already knew he ruined her, adding to those charges  
wouldn't help their cause moving forward.

"I hope those are worth it," Mustang murmured.

It wasn't bitter. It was genuine. Riza spent her life making sacrifices for others.  
Her tattoo wasn't the first. These notes weren't the last.

She cared for Edward and Alphonse. She connected with them:  
they shared the burdens of a broken family, alchemic disaster,  
and an unending road grasping at some kind of redemption.

She retrieved these notes for a reason.  
Faced this place for a reason.  
She thought it would help them.  
She needed them to succeed.  
She needed them to survive, for things to be different for them.

Her father may have deteriorated very quickly.  
But, he was still a genius of a kind even in his days of late.

She needed her father's research,  
 _her_ efforts, to do some good.

"Thanks," Ed said to the Colonel, cautiously grasping the papers in his outstretched hand.  
When he took them, Roy nodded and looked to his Lieutenant.

"We need to leave." He checked his silver pocket watch.

"We'll catch the last train going back westward south  
and stay at the Rockbell's if they'll receive us."

"They'd be happy to, I'm sure of it," Al tried his best to be cheery.  
It seemed out of place. But, Roy sort of appreciated it,  
as much as he could,  
as numb as he was.

"Thank you," Roy Mustang stepped to the house,  
That awful, dreadful, torturous house.  
She wouldn't do this alone.

No matter how much she fought him.  
He wouldn't leave her alone.

She wouldn't do this alone.

Ed needed to repay the Lieutenant.  
Even repay the Colonel.

He could fix this if only for a while, he thought.  
He called out as soon as the idea came to mind.

"Wait."

Mustang looked back over his shoulder.

"Burn it down," Ed said, stepping up.

"What?"

"There's nothing left here, right? Nothing left here but pain for both of you."  
Ed swallowed, "Take a page from our book. Burn the house."

Mustang's face changed. Edward couldn't see exactly what it had changed into.  
It had become too dark. Thunder rumbled above, a dry storm threatened the fields.

Rain would soon complete it and their chance for a dry spark would be gone.  
Mustang just turned away and finished the path to his Lieutenant.

Alphonse and Ed exchanged a glance as Mustang joined Hawkeye.  
They said nothing. He breathed in, she breathed out.

And, he somehow knew he had her consent.

He pulled on a glove.  
There was a snap.

Suddenly, the whole house was ablaze, an intense,  
powerful fire that wouldn't linger too long but hastily break down the walls  
and windows of their past. Just in time for the storm to come in.

They stood there for a long time.  
Superior beside his subordinate.

There was an itch between then, Edward could even feel all the way back,  
watching them from the car. Mustang wanted to hold her. He could tell.

He, personally, wouldn't admit it himself. Maybe the Colonel wouldn't either.  
But, Ed would want to hold Winry. He would want to hold Al if he could,  
like when he was little.

Hawkeye was never the type for holding, he supposed.  
Mustang would have to settle with being side-by-side.  
He supposed they had always settled for that.

Guilt lingering in his gut, Edward glanced at the notes,  
hoping to justify the purpose of the broken shadows standing  
stoically in front of the burning past that haunted them.

Alphonse leaned closer.

"What does it say?"

The page on top was titled an appropriate, _Human Transmutation_ , then shortly after a paragraph  
of scribbles in which he could only make out: _Stone_. The rumors were apparently true.

He was researching into alchemy that could perhaps bring back his wife.  
And, he had heard something of a stone, the same stone they were searching for.

"He didn't even code them," Ed murmured.

He should have taken that as a hint.  
He should have spotted the mental deterioration,  
a state so desperate he wouldn't even protect his theories on limitless alchemic power.

He should have seen it coming.  
The nightmare in the lines to follow.

Berthold Hawkeye decided to combine the two ideas, human resurrection,  
and a legendary, boundless stone. Equivalent exchange would never do  
if he was to bring his wife back.

Edward kicked himself for being too young to understand that  
when he led his brother to Truth and lost them their bodies,  
and nearly all of their hope.

" _I hid the notes."_ The Lieutenant had said to them.

Hawkeye always at least appeared highly intelligent.  
He knew she was a sharpshooter, one of the best Amestris had to offer.

The skill appears effortless, based on luck, just an aim and a pull.  
But, Ed knew that her brain was quickly and subconsciously calculating multiple  
intricate and multilayered trajectory equations simultaneously every time she looked through her scope.

So, Ed was sure that, even as a young girl, Hawkeye was a cut above the company.  
Meaning she could understand, at least in broad strokes, what she was looking at.  
After all, Edward was only eleven, maybe younger, when he began researching to bring his mother back.

He was praised as a prodigy in his craft later on. But, Ed wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibility  
that Hawkeye was somewhat of one too.

Perhaps she even then understood that life could not be brought back through alchemy,  
that alchemy was not and would never be an all powerful art.

But, the back of the second page revealed that a young Riza Hawkeye  
did not have to comprehend the most complex theories of alchemy.

Perhaps she did.  
But, she didn't have to.  
Not to simply read and register the sentence at the bottom.

 _Equivalent exchange utilizing full life sacrifice._

"Does that say what I think it does…?"

 _Sacrifice Riza_

Edward's eyes shot open, so wide he felt his eyelids would tear.  
This was absurd. Impossible.

Of course. She was scared. She had just lost her mother, and her father was plotting against her.  
She was petrified. So the very intelligent girl, the cut above the company,  
did what she could to save her father and save herself.

She stole his notes and stashed them away,  
and prayed he would simply forget  
his progress and resume his work on flame alchemy.

"Oh dear…" Alphonse quivered.  
"We're not reading these. We're not using these," Ed decided.

Edward and Alphonse would not understand just how close Berthold Hawkeye  
had come to the truth about the Philosopher's Stone, about limitless alchemic power  
until they met Dr. Tim Marcoh.

But, in that moment, Ed quickly and subconsciously accounted the idea  
to Berthold Hawkeye's insanity, the same that left the treacherous notes decoded,  
the same that led him to brand his own daughter years later.

He squashed the pages in his metal hand.  
Rage coursing through his body like incinerating electricity.  
He had to do something.

If Hawkeye's father believed murder was the route to the Philosopher's Stone,  
he was clearly crazy and the notes were rendered useless.

Not to mention that anyone who even considered  
sacrificing an innocent child, much less one like the Lieutenant,  
did not deserve respect, attention,  
or even simple consideration  
in life or death.

"We have to destroy these."

"We should give them back. " Al said, most definitely more rationally,  
"We should let the Lieutenant decide."

But, Ed was too busy staring at the blaze and the shadows of his superior officers.  
Mustang had given in and now braced his Lieutenant, his dear childhood friend,  
closely to his chest, his face buried in her shoulder.

Her arms were tentatively wrapped around him.  
She hid as deeply as possible into his chest underneath his black coat.

She was broken.  
No, they couldn't let these continue to exist.

"We have to burn these too."

Rain began to drizzle from the sky.  
Ed bolted toward the fire.

He didn't have much time now before the drizzle turned to a pour,  
and the pour quenched the house aflame.

"Brother, wait!" Al called after him.

Roy raised his head from Riza's shoulder in a snap,  
initially realizing the fact that he had been caught.

But, the bond between the Colonel and his First Lieutenant  
was not the most pressing or important or relevant matter at the moment.

Formalities could burn in the fire for all he cared.

They needed to leave.  
The needed to return from this,  
unscathed and unwearied.

He had to hold her as tight as he could.  
Apply pressure. Stop the bleeding.

It was Riza that called after the boy quietly, concerned.  
"Edward?" she said. But, Ed did not turn back.

"Fullmetal." Mustang reluctantly let go of Riza,  
called out as Alphonse raced after his brother,  
his armor clomping through the mud.

Ed stopped in front of the fire, took one last look  
at the crumpled notes in his hand.

Then he threw them as hard as he could,  
right into the middle of the flames.

The three were speechless as he looked up at the sky,  
the rain beginning to shower.

He turned and headed toward the car.  
They needed to leave.

This place needed to burn,  
alone and with their backs turned.

"We should get going. I'll call Winry from the train station."

None of them spoke for the rest of the night.  
But, no one argued. It was time to leave.

It was time to move on from the past. Press forward.  
Was that even possible? For even just one of the four?

It was never a certain thing.  
But, they would sure as hell try to make it so.

They would sure as hell try.

* * *

oh hang in there. the next chapter is my favorite.  
a happy chapter. talk to meeee. you've done great so far.  
let me know how you're feeling.  
reviews, follows.


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n** oh look the title chapter. and the most romantic scene i've ever wrote for Roy and Riza.  
well, in my opinion. i may just be rly rly tired. im in love with them both.

* * *

"You should have slept in a bed, Colonel.  
We have a long day ahead of us."

It was far too late in the morning.  
Far later than she would have intended to start.  
The Colonel liked to sleep in too much. She was the clock.

But, she was tired enough to forget to set her internal alarm.  
She may have been less coherent last night than she would have liked.

She remembered watching the dark hills grow darker.  
She remembered they were in Resembool before she could wake on the train.  
She was carried. She was laid on a bed, tucked deep beneath thick blankets.

She heard whispering,  
doors opening and closing.  
She smelled coffee beans and apple pie.

She felt a kiss she shouldn't have at her hair line.  
She heard murmuring outside of the walls around her,  
but she knew she was never alone.

She was warm for the first time that night.

Her stomach dropped,  
remembering.

Riza shook her head clear.  
She would have to apologize later.

To everyone.

But now, it was far too late. They had to catch a late train to Eastern.  
Arrive to the office in the afternoon and put in overtime catching up  
on the work they missed after taking leave for a day and a half.  
The team would be in chaos no doubt.

And, here she was.  
Just now getting out of the shower.

He really should have slept in a bed.  
The Colonel wasn't pleasant when tired.

But, she watched him smile.

"Maybe so," Roy said, settling his rickety table chair back on all four legs.  
He had bags under his eyes and yawned through every word.  
Even so, his wit never missed a beat.

"But, who would enjoy watching you sleep?"

Riza gave him a look. He grinned. It was a terrible joke.  
Not even a joke, not harmful or inappropriate. Just a tad creepy.  
But, not ill-willed. Never ill-willed. Regardless, Riza was always one to retaliate.

"You could have at least shared my bed."

Roy's eyebrows rose as he hid his interest like a true professional.  
That's what he thought, at least. He always thought he hid it well.

He never hid it well.

"You would have let me do that?"

Riza scoffed and pulled her jacket on,  
"Absolutely not."

He frowned and twisted toward the little mirror on the wall,  
attempting to place the disobedient bedhead strands of hair  
back into place, "You're cruel, Lieutenant. Just cruel."

"You have too many hormones, Sir," she huffed and turned to him,  
scooping up her travel bag. He turned to her, "I prefer it that way."

"Indeed," she deadpanned.

And, suddenly, he looked severely concerned.  
She wished he didn't.  
She wished she could move on.  
For once, she wished he would keep teasing her,  
inappropriate or otherwise.

But, the joking was over.  
He was concerned because of his incessant  
and unrelenting care for his subordinates.

For her.  
It was annoying.

It was who he was. Firmly compassionate, stubbornly dedicated.  
It was what made him throw himself in front of bullets for the people  
who were sworn to protect him.

Those said sworn wished he would stop doing that.

In a step, he was almost too close. He was certainly too close.  
He would barely have to lift his arm for the two to touch.

In that space, there was warmth and peace,  
despite the blazing fire and the freezing rain  
from the night before.

Riza had made so many mistakes.  
She wished for once she could go on without.

But, here she was, derailing a most important trip,  
for two boys who more than deserved some sort of hope.

Roy radiated warmth. It filled her chest,  
and spread through her heart,  
but her mind fought back,  
knowing she fit better in the cold.

 _I'm sorry,_ she was about to say.  
maybe, _Thank you_ , she was desperate,  
she wanted to plead, beg,  
forgiveness.

But, trying to apologize to the Colonel,  
particularly when you were _his Lieutenant_ ,  
was a pipe dream.

He would never let her.  
So, she saved some strength,  
and didn't for now.

Trusting in the fact  
that he already knew.

Instead, he reached for her hand,  
lingering a little bit longer than necessary  
and grabbed her obligatory clip in her grasp.

"Turn."

"Huh?" she responded dumbly,  
too caught up in her thoughts,  
too warm.

He spun his finger then shook the clip in his hand.

She hesitated.  
She didn't want to leave this bubble just yet.

But, she did turn. He grabbed her damp long blonde hair off her shoulders,  
running his fingers through the back, the sides, and smoothed it into a ponytail.

She exhaled heavily underneath his fingers.  
All the air, all the tension in her body flooded out.  
For a second, everything was okay.

For a second, last night didn't exist.

He clipped her hair delicately.  
He grasped her shoulders and turned her gently back around.  
They were so close.

He fixed her bangs and then gave her a soft smile.  
They were so _extraordinarily_ close.

"All clear?" he asked, keeping the language of the military intact.  
for comfort, for clarity, focusing on the present,

the future.

She breathed, drawing back the senseless touch of mist from her eyes.  
She could tell he saw. She almost hated him and the microscopic smirk  
he gave, a reflex to her display of vulnerability.

Her unadulterated display of herself.

"Yes, Sir," she lifted her chin and saluted, "All clear, Sir."

He gave a half-hearted laugh, sad but hopeful.  
He motioned a small salute, not even raising his elbow,  
then muttered softly to her,

"At ease." He said,  
"Let's go home."

"Home," she hummed. East City.  
Where their men were.  
Where he was.

Where they belonged.  
Where they could press on.

"Yes," he resisted the urge to sweep the extra strand  
of blonde hair back behind her ear.

Then he did it anyway.

"Home."

* * *

lil, smol, but so beautiful. let me know if my fav was your fav.  
talk to me. one more chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n** here we are at the end. hopefully happy. hopefully hopeful.  
a couple of you had some questions. I extended this chapter to cover those  
hopefully.

don't forget to review,  
let me know what you think.  
share my love for royai and the elrics  
and everything fma.

* * *

Winry made omelets and pinned them all down to the table  
before they could leave. And to Edward's surprise,  
everything seemed  
 _normal._

He inhaled nearly all the food he could, like normal.  
Al engaged in pleasant conversation with Winry, the Colonel, and Pinako  
like he usually would. And, Hawkeye was characteristically soft and quiet and steady.

As if she hadn't fallen to her knees, sobbing and muttering  
and pulling off her clothes, raking at her back,  
begging for relief not twelve hours before.

It was strange,  
sad, maybe.

But, Ed couldn't help but be relieved.  
He hoped he would never see the Lieutenant, the Colonel even,  
so shattered He wasn't sure if that was possible, for them to be immune  
from here on out, no matter what happened.

But, he pretended it could be so, stuffed eggs and potatoes and bacon into his mouth, avoided his milk, and watched Mustang _accidently_ graze Hawkeye's hand too many times, his fingers accidently brushing the back of the hand that held her knife steady on the table,  
nearly every five minutes,

Seriously.

The most common was his pinky finger,  
tapping to some inaudible beat,  
gently hitting her skin with each move.  
 _accidently._

Twice he lifted his arm to scratch his head,  
rub his neck, and grazing her hand in the process.

It was extremely weird.

He muttered a, "Sorry, Lieutenant." only once, the first time, under his breath.  
She replied a soft, "That's just fine, Sir," then ate a strawberry.

Then they never spoke again.

Ed raised his eyebrow on time number three,  
but actually stopped his feast on the fourth occurrence,  
he waited for the fifth.

"Something wrong, Fullmetal?"

The Colonel had caught him. Or had he caught the Colonel?  
Edward glared at him suspiciously. Then slowly resumed chewing.

He wouldn't bring it up or taunt him later, Ed decided.  
For whatever the hell that was.

After last night,  
the pair finally made sense.  
Or just a little bit of sense.

He wasn't sure if he would ever truly understand.  
He was actually quite certain he would never truly understand.

 _Ever_.

It didn't take long to get to the train station.  
Mustang was speeding, knowing they had to get back to East City  
before Hawkeye snapped out of her soft silence and finally gave him an ear full  
for letting her rest and stay the night in Resembool.

But, she didn't say anything. Perhaps she knew she needed the leave.  
She did shift in her seat ever so often, wiggling off the anxiety.

Soon enough they were at the station. Mustang had taken their bags  
and accepted Al's help to carry them to train storage, then grab the tickets.

Alphonse didn't need a suitcase.  
But, Edward packed heavy for their travels.  
This was just supposed to be a day trip.

Why didn't he just leave the thing with Hughes?  
Mustang cursed him under his breath,  
noticing he should probably be working his arm muscles  
far more often than he was.

He wasn't sure what the kid had in there.  
He only wore like one outfit day in and day out.

They left and Edward stood next to Riza in a small silence,  
watching the train and waiting for Roy and Alphonse to return.

Ed thought he should apologize, for forcing her here,  
take advantage of one of the only moments  
he had ever had alone with Lieutenant Hawkeye.

Riza beat him to it.  
"I owe you an apology, Edward."

"Huh?" Ed was surprised.  
He didn't really think that was true.

But, he did let her explain.

"I feel the circumstance I caused  
pressured you to burn my father's notes.  
I've stalled your progress with my personal matters."

Hawkeye looked at him directly, quite frankly,  
"I wasn't able to help you as I had hoped."

Edward gave a sweet smile,  
and told the truth.

"Your father was a genius in a lot of ways, Lieutenant."

She nodded.  
It was true.

"But those notes were useless," Ed said.

Her mouth twitched like she felt she should smile,  
in some relief of some kind. But, she didn't.

Riza knew what those notes said.

She knew why she hid them. She knew she was scared.  
She was just a little girl. Her father was sick.  
She needed to do something.  
Anything.

She couldn't be frightened forever,  
without her mother to soothe her back to sleep,  
when the nights were darker than pitch,

and she could hear her father  
standing outside her doorway,  
hand on the doorknob,  
deciding.

His eyes. She remembered  
seeing them glow through the crack,  
watching her in bed.

She had to do something,  
Anything.

Even so young, she knew her father was in a state,  
where his mind blanked every early morning  
when he finally closed his eyes,  
blocking out her mother's slow death.

He would need his notes when he woke.  
To guide him back to her doorway at night,  
to make more progress,  
to get his wife back,  
his mind back.

She betrayed him.  
She hid them.

If Berthold Hawkeye's largest breakdown  
was the night Roy Mustang, his one true child, his son,  
left for good.

The runner-up was when Riza hid those notes.  
She ran far into the woods, shaking,  
so young.

His screaming scared the birds from the trees,  
but she knew if she screamed herself, for help,  
they were too far from the town  
for anyone to hear.

 _He's not really like this.  
He's not really like this._

She chanted over and over,  
while windows shattered,  
and doors slammed.

He had always been eccentric,  
fiery, hot-headed, yet rather apathetic

particularly toward his daughter  
for reasons she could never remember,

her mind tricking her  
into thinking there was hope  
for them as father and daughter.

She would never know if the opaque memories she had  
of her father holding her, spinning her around the room,  
teaching her the names of little particles that made up  
everything she could touch and see: _atoms_.

She would never know if those were real,  
or fabricated for the survival of a little girl all alone,  
because they were so far from the truth then.

She so hoped they were.  
 _He wasn't always like this.  
_  
But, she could only ever rely on the memories of his apathy.  
He didn't like her. He didn't love her. He had loved her mother.  
And now, he had lost her mother.

She was terrified.  
She couldn't think.

She thought to run away,  
but she couldn't leave him to rot,  
he was her father. _Atoms_.

So, she hid the notes. She stuffed them somewhere inside,  
crumpled and scattered, as quick as she could.  
Then she forced herself to forget their hiding place.

She hadn't had the nerve, the courage,  
to read anymore after she saw her name  
and the reason why he stood  
shifting behind her door each night.

She wouldn't ever know if her father had discovered  
something of value in his research of the Philosopher's Stone.

Something that could be used for good.  
For the Elrics.

She imagined he had.  
Even if it was just a detail.

He _was_ a genius,  
though compromised.

She just hoped with her whole being,  
the truth he discovered wasn't the piece  
that involved her.

"My mother died when I was nine," Hawkeye shared,  
though she wasn't sure why, "My father closed himself up in his study.  
I didn't see him for at least a month.  
I knew something was wrong."

An explanation, maybe.  
Edward deserved an explanation.  
For not being any further in his journey,  
even after such a night.

All Ed could think, though,  
as he stared at the Lieutenant,  
 _Nine.  
_  
Edward sighed,  
 _She was only nine.  
_  
Berthold Hawkeye was going to sacrifice  
his nine-year-old. Not that ten years  
would have made it any better.

But, she was only nine.

"But, I knew he was there. I knew he was-,"  
the Lieutenant looked for the right word,  
"salvageable."

"How?"

She tried to smile."I left food outside his door every night." She said,  
"He was eating. That's always a good sign with men." _Atoms.  
_  
Edward nodded. He exhaled a small laugh.  
Lieutenant Hawkeye had such a knack for caring,  
even for those who did her such wrong.

Winry was the same way

.Ed was really starting to hate  
all these similarities between he  
and the Colonel.

In the distance, the last suitcase was stored in the cargo car,  
Roy rubbed his hands together, adjusted his collar,  
and readied himself to board.

"Was he better? After you hid the notes?"  
Ed asked. Ed hoped, "After he returned to Flame Alchemy?"

"Not until the Colonel arrived," She admitted,  
glancing at Roy from the corner of her eye.

She honestly wasn't the one who saved her father,  
the one who saved the Hawkeye's altogether.

Roy had stopped just briefly,  
noticing that Riza was speaking to Ed.

Realizing the look on her face.  
She was stoic to anyone else.  
But, he knew her.

He met her eyes after a bit of a struggle,  
nudged his head toward the train.  
She nodded but didn't move.

"How old was he?" Edward asked,  
remembering the marks on the wall.

"He was your age, actually.  
I was two years his junior."

Roy climbed the steps, managing to look back at her only once.  
Riza watched him intently. "Edward," she said,

"If you could do me one more favor."  
"Of course," Ed responded.

"Please," she spoke softly to him, "Don't tell the Colonel,  
what you saw in those notes."

She knew Edward saw it, read it.  
She knew why he burned them.  
Such an honorable young man, she thought.  
Willing to do such a thing for a stiff, cold, fun-sucking superior officer.

He was kind and selfless,  
maybe a little bit soft deep inside,  
a little bit like the Colonel.

Neither of them would admit that.  
So she didn't say it out loud.

Edward smirked.  
He tried to joke, laugh,

"He wouldn't handle that very well, huh?"

Considering the flames  
he nearly roasted he and his brother with,  
over Hawkeye's tattoo alone.

It didn't sit well with Ed, thinking about the way Roy would break  
if he knew Riza could have been gone before he had the chance to show up,  
that he left her with a man who was once hellbent on murdering her.  
He would certainly blame himself, and maybe come back  
and burn the entire town down  
for good measure.

He would lose it.

Hawkeye gave a small shake of her head,  
"No. I don't imagine he would handle it very gracefully."

She would tell Roy if he asked,  
she knew she would.

But, the past was the past.  
They were leaving it behind,  
here, now.

He didn't need to know.  
He had already saved her,  
over and over.

From what long list of foes?  
That wasn't as important.

Ed watched his brother and the Colonel  
shift through the train car windows.

The Lieutenant finally lifted her chin  
and stepped to the train.

Edward had to stop her.  
One last thing.

"Lieutenant," Edward said, though the train began to whistle,  
"I promise I will never bring it up again from here on out. But-"

Riza stopped cold  
when he asked,

" _Did_ he hurt you?"

She didn't answer.  
Ed lowered his voice,  
as much as he could.

"I mean, did you have a choice? Your back."

She stared at the boy and blinked.  
She couldn't answer, really.  
She did. She told her father she would when he asked.  
But, was it really all that voluntary?

It seemed she had never  
stopped shaking in fear  
beneath his shadow.

So, what had made her do it?  
Roy Mustang, she remembered surely.

She would have the power to give those notes to Roy Mustang.  
When he returned. If he returned. She hoped he would return.

She had been alone for so long.  
Riza glued her eyes to her boots.

"Want me to kick his ass?"

She actually laughed a little.  
"I'm not sure that's possible."

"Hey, I know he's the Flame Alchemist or whatever,"  
Edward followed the Lieutenant to the steps on the train.  
"But, I could take him if it meant making him pay for something lik-"

"You mean the Colonel." Riza lifted her head, realizing,  
he wasn't talking about her father's ink.  
Instead, the Colonel's burns.

She turned to him,  
grabbing the rail of the staircase,  
she smiled a smile that almost wasn't there.

"I know you don't like him, Edward. And, I know more than anybody he can appear arrogant. He can be reckless, stubborn and occasionally blinded by his morals," Riza said,

"He's always been full of idealism,  
entrenched in the tale of the good and the evil."

This was a layer she shared, of course,  
But, a piece of her, still shivering in the night of the Ishvalan desert,  
her father's ghost, with his glowing eyes, was still being scolded  
for believing Roy Mustang.

"You hate him too?" Ed smirked a little.

She wasn't sure she ever could.

He was hope itself.  
He was compassion  
and dedication,  
devotion and love.

She wasn't sure she could ever possibly  
be convinced that a man like that  
wasn't always the one to follow,  
even into hell.

"He is the good, Edward." She said, almost solemnly.  
Ed wondered if she would ever have the capacity to fully smile,

"He's the only person who doesn't mean any harm  
to any person except those who oppress the helpless."

He was the exact opposite of her father in the end.  
He was the hope she always ever wished for  
since she was nine,  
alone,  
and scared,  
cowering in the woods,  
watching even the birds flee in fear.

"I asked him to," she said, finally answering the question,  
shaking off the memory, the burn, the was a good pain, she reminded herself.

It was the fire that set her free,  
from that town, from that house,  
from the woods,  
the notes,  
the ink,  
the desert,  
the blood and the sand.

From so many things.

Hawkeye sighed too heavy.  
Ed's mouth cinched.

The train whistled impatiently,  
the wheels creaked,  
ready to move.

"He is the good," she said, "He's the ally to have moving forward."  
"We must keep moving forward," she said to herself, boarding the train.

Ed could believe her, he supposed.  
If he could believe anyone,  
he could believe Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.

He decided to leave their heavy words behind them on the platform,  
 _We must keep moving forward_ , she had said.

He couldn't agree more.

"Hey, Lieutenant!" Ed called after her.  
"Does this mean you have humiliating stories  
about Colonel SmartAss when he was young?"

"I have plenty," she hummed.  
She spotted Roy and Alphonse in a booth.

"But they're off limits."  
"Oh come on, Lieutenant,  
I need ammunition here."

"Sorry, Edward," she shrugged."Maybe one day," Riza sighed, standing aside,  
offering him the window seat. "When he finally breaks my patience."

"When _who_ finally breaks your patience?" Roy asked, already defensive.  
The two ignored him. Edward snorted. "So, tomorrow?"

Riza settled.  
Then she finally grinned,  
kind of carefree,  
and kind of happy.

"Most likely tomorrow, yes."

Roy gave them a suspicious glare.  
But, ultimately landed on Riza  
eyebrows raised,  
in a most hopeful gaze.

"Ready?" he asked.  
"Yes, Sir," she answered,

"Let's go **home.** "

* * *

I loved this idea and this story and writing everything all of it. let me know if you liked reading it.  
follow me, on here, on ao3, on tumblr: **myrhymesarepurer** all around. love royai with me.

if you'd like more of me, I've got some new fics  
 **t** i **n g - a - l** i **n g** , so cute so very fluff  
and **The Great Pretend** , sweet but lil serious.

thanks so much for sticking through the agony  
for the light at the end of the tunnel.  
hope you enjoyed it. leave me your parting thoughts.


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